


insolence

by chosuiri



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Consensual Sex, Fade to Black, Illusion Magic, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, character analysis? in my horny fic?, gbvs brainrot but not like any spoilers, i mean they fuck but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:14:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26647327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chosuiri/pseuds/chosuiri
Summary: Wait, Percy... roleplaying again?You're the big bad king... and I'm your insolent vassal. Well, my lord?
Relationships: Belial/Percival (Granblue Fantasy)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 36





	insolence

**Author's Note:**

> i wish gbvs didn't give me this brainrot but they have since like what? feburary? I'm ill. it all started with "archaeologist? don't insult my intelligence" and has only gone downhill from there.
> 
> also belated happy belialfication day enjoy
> 
> happy to drag everyone else in the brainrot with me

"Oh..?" Belial hums and chuckles, lashes fluttering as he bats his eyes at Percival. Amusement evident in his mien, he rests his chin on his palm and tilts his head slightly. "Did you enjoy that last time so much, Lord of Flames? Let's go another round then… it seems that you're into roleplay since you like to be so dramatic, hm?"

"I am not acting!" Percival huffs, eyes narrowing as he glances over at the other reclining in a chair made out of red blades. "Didn't I tell you not to speak of it ever again?"

"How could I not?" Belial coos, "I just can't get that cute face of yours out of my mind. I won't be breaking our little promise unless it stays our dirty secret, Percy."

Percival rolls his eyes, suppressing the blush as much as he can manage, "The nickname again?"

"Riiight, since you'd rather roleplay… ah, so sorry My Lord." Belial's dulcet tone rings Percival back to the reality of his situation. “Let this insolent vassal make it up to you.”

Percival’s breath hitches when he hears those mocking, faux subordinate words. Percival doesn’t ever feel truly in control when he’s with Belial. No matter what, this serpent had the upper hand, and as he loathed to admit it, knew how to press the right buttons. It’s infuriating. Utterly so. Cheeks red and body trembling despite his attempts to keep up his facade, he lets out a laugh. “What can you do to make up for such cheek?”

“My, duking it out won’t do any good for your temper, hm? Seems like you need something else to loosen you up. What do you say, my king?” Belial smirks, swinging himself off his makeshift throne. He steps closer toward Percival, and without the prince realizing, Belial already has a hand on his shoulder and his mouth so tantalizingly close to his ear. 

“Go on, I’m afraid it’s too humble for a king of your likeness, but… let me make this up to you.”

“Enough of your whispers, serpent,” Percival grumbles, scrunching his nose as he holds up a hand and tries to swat him away. “I would never call someone like you my vassal.”

“Oh, but you seem so eager to get more of these fools for your ignorant kingdom of happiness.” Belial returns smoothly with a bit of a cackle, “Aren’t I perfect? I can play the fool just fine, you see? The apple of knowledge is nothing but a prop. I’ll be your loyal subordinate as long as you’d like to play the game, my pretty king.”

At this point, Percival picked up on Belial’s game. Sometimes he speaks the truth. Other times if he goes too far and reveals a little too much of the truth of himself-- the truth of Belial, the Archangel of Cunning-- and then steps back, laughs, and deflects away from it by saying something less savory. It’s a distraction, Percival’s come to realize. A way to throw him off the trail.

The man infuriates him, don’t get him wrong. His company has been quite unpleasant for all sorts of reasons-- he’s driven up the wall because of him. Always having to check his back, and always left spinning on his toes. Yet, Belial intrigued him.

Belial’s heart was cast away in the dark and always dwindled in the shadows. Percival assumed that was its rightful place, where a scoundrel’s heart ought to be. Belial’s aware that the light is no place for him to be. Right?

Even now, Percival doesn’t think he has a good grasp on him… he knows that’s the way Belial wants it to be. To remain an enigma, judging by how he jumps through every loop to do every goddamn irritating and confusing thing he could do. He’s a contrarian. He’s a real work of a villain.

He’s filled with all of humanity’s flaws.

“Aw, if you’re gonna keep cutely staring at me like that, I might just blush…” Belial teases, “don’t tell me… did I take your breath away? At a loss for words again, Little Red?”

“What’s up with that name,” Percival snaps out of his trance, his boring stare shifting into a glare. “I was thinking.”

Belial grins widely and starts to hover over his shoulder, making use of some magic to levitate himself. “About me? I’m honored. Looks like I’m always on your mind these days… should I celebrate? My dear king adores me so much.” Oh Bahamut, he is _irritating_. 

“Stay your tongue, serpent.” Percival hisses, shrugging his shoulders and stomping away, closer to the throne of blades. He touches it warily, wondering if it’ll start to disintegrate into dust as soon as he sat in it. It doesn’t budge, thankfully, so it seems like Belial isn’t trying to play a prank on him this time. 

Their encounters always left Percival dizzy and furious. Both at how his heart pounded and how Belial manages to stump him every time. He’s not falling for anything this time, right? Not like he had _intended_ for their paths to cross again.

Percival resolves to play along if he’s Belial’s new source of amusement for the day. He lets himself collapse into the throne, legs spread far apart. He stares at the ground beneath him, and he resolves not to rely too much on the integrity of the throne.

Belial smiles slyly, “you are quite becoming on that throne, my lord. Let me give you an upgrade.”

Red floods his vision, just like the first time they met, and Percival finds himself on a comfier throne. The cushion is plush and covered with the finest of silks, while genuine gold embellishes it. Percival feels a heaviness on his head. Wearily, he lifts a hand to remove the source of the heaviness and discovers an elegantly adorned crown. Percival squints.

“Heavy, isn’t it?” A familiar voice calls out, Belial stepping in from behind the throne. He emerges on the left of Percival, his red eyes more hypnotizing than ever. “It’s sure a hard task to be the king of so many people… there’s no way skydwellers would get along so easily. What are we to do, my king? Bandits terrorized yet another village in the last few days.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Percival begins, and then hesitates. “I… will send someone else to deal with it? How would I…”

“Just kill them.” Belial sneers, “isn’t this your utopia? My lord, if you give me the order, it’ll be all dealt with oh-so cleanly… you can sit there looking pretty while I take care of it. What do you think?”

Percival frowns. That’s not what he wants. If he just gets rid of the bandits, that’s not going to fix anything. More will pop up in their place… and who will protect the villagers? He has to deal with this himself--

“So fast, too. Are you realizing it already, Percy?” Belial asks with a disinterested yawn. “Your ideal kingdom isn’t possible. If you surrender that future away, I’m sure we can find a lot of other things to do with your now.”

“What are you playing at here,” Percival snarls, furrowing his eyebrows as he scoffs at Belial’s apparent apathy. “I’m not a delusional fool, contrary to what you may think. I know it won’t be smooth. It won’t be easy to do it in a way that my kingdom isn’t an oppressive nation. I’ll make it happen.”

“Oh? You put it so simply it makes me want to believe you.” Belial snorts, “You’re so stubborn, Percy… well, not like I’d expect less from my king.” The fallen angel inches closer, and then he does it again. He deflects. His cool hands touch Percival’s on the crown, and it disappears into nothing. An illusion?

Belial licks his lips, kneeling and hanging off the arm of the throne. A hand rests on Percival’s leg. “My lord, I just wanted to test you a little… tell me whatever you want, and this insolent vassal of yours will make it up to you.”

A chill goes down Percival’s spine, and his breath is caught up in his throat. “You aren’t my vassal--”

“Aw, Percy. Don’t get out of character here… do you need a little more comfort, my king?”

“N-No… yes… n--” Percival pauses, and sighs. He surrenders himself to the nonsensical illusion world again, the bright red once again blinding him.

Roses.

A familiar scent. Nostalgic, even. He opens his eyes, and he’s back in his room back in Wales. His hair is down again, and he dons the same pajamas he wore. Now, how was Belial capable of replicating this? It’s not like he ever went there…

“Surprised?” Belial laughs, “don’t be so scared. Just think of it as a dream, Percy. This is your world.”

“No, this is the world of illusions you spun, Belial.” Percival grits his teeth, trying to sit up in the bed. Although he still had clothes on, he feels naked under Belial’s scrutiny and no longer without his armor to protect him.

Ah.

He’s vulnerable in the serpent’s den. He clasps at his robes clumsily, his first instinct to cover his chest.

“We’re on a first-name basis now, Percy?” Belial hums, and that apple materializes in his hand again. He holds it elegantly, and its glossy red sheen is not lost on him. The perfect apple. The perfect temptation. “My sweet king isn’t so intimidating anymore here… but he sure is such a pretty sight. Easy on the eyes.”

“What,” Percival mutters, biting his lip as he shoots a glare as Belial starts to prattle on. Rose petals shower him, and his nose becomes flooded with its scent. It’s not quite intoxicating until Belial joins him on the bed. Percival’s eyes widen. “And what is the meaning of this?”

“Aw, I’m just helping you relax.” Belial smiles, patting him on the head and stroking his hair so sweetly. It’s the touch Percival’s long craved, but his pride will not let him admit it. “The troubles of the future and its bleakness really is too bad, isn’t it? I’m letting you forget for a bit, my liege.”

Belial’s not wrong. Not by any means. Percival’s body leans into Belial’s caresses, and his eyes land on the apple again. “It’d be better if that was a strawberry.”

“Ah?” Belial chuckles, “Hahaha… how cute of you. Sorry, Percy, but strawberries are no forbidden fruit, you know? Once you eat this apple it’s the end of our playtime. But… don’t you want us to take our time? All nice and slow, just for my king.”

Percival tenses, and unfortunately already finds himself reacting to such words. Why is he so easily aroused by him? He should let this end already, but yet...

“Listen to your instincts, Percy.”

Tempting. Not like he has many other options here, where he’s already been so exposed. Yet, he doesn’t want this to end. It feels comfortable. Pleasurable, even. Even so, Belial gives him the reins. He’s still his king. He has the means to say when to stop, with that apple.

It…

Can’t hurt, right?

“Fine,” Percival says haughtily, “Hurry up and make it up to your king already.”

“Aw, you think that’s all you have to say?” Belial teases, but already has fingers working at loosening Percival’s robes. “Maybe some praise… or maybe you want to burn me for my insolence again?”

“You…” As if he could use his magic here. Without his sword, there isn’t an easy conductor to it unless he wants the flames to overrun the whole room. “Please. Didn’t you promise you’ll show me a good time?”

“Not quite a gold star answer, but since you’re so cute I’ll let it slide...” Belial murmurs, pressing his lips against Percival’s exposed neck. 

* * *

When he wakes up again, he’s on the ground of where he first sat on that throne of blades. His eyes flutter open, and he’s met with Belial smirking down at him. “You haven’t won,” Percival mutters weakly.

“Oh? When will I have won, Percy?” Belial smiles innocently, “when you realize that there’s no happy ending? How long will you waste your time searching for it? I’m just trying to save you from your heartbreak… I don’t want to see your pretty face in tears when you reach that point.”

“That won’t happen,” Percival repeats more forcefully, “your game was distracting. How’s that better than what I needed to do?”

“Aw, but you liked it so much… who was the one who said that won’t happen again?” Belial shrugs, “well, I’ll welcome you anytime… I think you’re the cutest when you’re crying, so I’ll gladly wipe those tears.”

“That’s not happening.” Percival sighs but finds that he’s having a tough time moving from the ground.

Belial lets out a yawn, shaking his head. “Try to be a little more honest with yourself, Percy. Well, I’m such a busy man… looks like I have to go for now. See you next time, Percy.”

Before Percival can utter a word in return, Belial starts walking off and disappears before he even knows it.

What insolence.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading i cannot stop thinking about them 
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/nobleflamme).


End file.
